Lonely Thoughts
by PainfulStitches17
Summary: Chpt 1: There's nothing worse than being stuck in your own head, Bandit knows that. Chpt 2 : Jäger can struggle too. 22/02/2019 : I'm turning this into a collection of angsty chapters and changing the title to Lonely Thoughts. :)
1. Any minute now

It would be coming any minute now.

The more he thought about it, the more he recounted everything his brain contained, the worse he felt. He couldn't cry and in some way thank god for that because a grown man of his reputation crying in the middle of the common room would be quite shameful for him. But maybe he wouldn't care, like everything else it would get lost to him, the ability to give a fuck was out of his grasp on most things.

Any minute now.

The buzzing feeling, an anchor in his chest deepening by the second, like it was attached to his heart and bringing it down in deep sea, his body sinking until his head was underwater, suffocating in his own thoughts. It was akin to drowning in toxic waste, no matter how hard he tried to pull his head out the poison would keep polluting his mind. He felt numb like he had so many times before but it felt different. Nothing had a purpose, he looked at other people and felt nothing but a sense of boredom, there was no need to try and socialise, it was pointless, maybe they'd even be dead tomorrow. The box of chocolates sitting on his lap was nothing but a bother, eating didn't make sense anymore. Everything was bland and hurt him more than it satisfied his hunger, so he slowly cut down the amounts. Had anybody realized it ? Maybe Gustave did, he started performing poorly. He would find excuses to be absent at most meals for the past week and Elias would look at him with an air of worry that made him want to claw his own skin off. He was ready to make himself sick just to feel something else but now that it was in front of him, there was nothing but disgust.

It shouldn't take so long.

He wanted to drop dead, anticipating his body to magically give out by merely thinking about it long enough. It didn't work that way and he wished it fucking did. He wasn't crazy or selfish enough to try and get himself shot on a mission, he didn't have the courage to end it right there when it would undermine his colleagues. Nobody would ask, an honest tragedy, they would move on and he would be replaced. Anger pooling in his stomach, it wasn't fair, he saw people die, people who didn't deserve it, people who were struggling and had no other choice, people whose lives were forcefully taken. He thought he would have been dead by now, he'd deserve it for his actions. By the end of Hannover, his future was uncertain, he didn't see himself go past his forties but his brother was always there to grab him by the wrist and keep him going forward.

And then he got ambushed in that auto shop outside Frankfurt. He had his own little creation both a blessing and a curse.

And then there was a mistake, inattention, a fight, a struggle and screams he would hear every night for the next six years. He still saw the blood flowing, fists aching for more but the body sitting still and when he got closer to the man lying a few meters away on the floor, half of himself died in an instant. His revenge almost cost him his job but his oversight cost him the most precious thing he could've asked for.

He didn't have a brother anymore.

How long has it been ?

Nausea got stronger, a ache in his chest. He felt destructive, his hands were itching for a massacre and he would be the only victim, vivid images flooding his mind. Maybe he could cut down some flesh a little ? Gauge his eyes out, pull out his teeth, hack off a limb why wouldn't he ? Maybe...

Maybe he should do something else, some were staring at him as he started to shake.

I can't wait any longer.

He got up and immediately went into auto-pilot, kept going until he reach the yellow doors. He was hesitating now, the last thing he wanted was to be a burden on top of the rest. The sight of Jäger losing himself in his work felt homey, something he has seen almost every day for the past four years in the workshop.

He was one of the few that would make him feel that flutter.

Approaching as nonchalantly as possible, holding the shakiness back, he sat down on the wobbly chair he always picked. Jäger's reaction was delayed, as usual.

"Oh, sorry. What's going on Dominic ?"

"I'm bored."

"You really need a hobby." His laugh was as warm as ever.

"You're my hobby. Where are the others ?" He hadn't realised the usuals weren't there as they're always so quiet.

"Mute managed to convince them to get afternoon tea somewhere near the base. Have you eaten already ? Fuze gave me a whole pack of KitKats, let's go take a break outside."

Jäger got up without waiting for an agreement, he knew Bandit would follow him either way. The sun felt nice on their skin, a warm breeze passing through messy and curly hair. Sitting on the grass at the backside of the base was a ritual for the both of them, relatively quiet compared to the other locations. Jäger eagerly broke into the package, giving Bandit a treat. He had no intentions to eat but he could try to save face and make Jäger happy.

They stayed there in silence for a good ten minutes, the younger man stuffing his face like there was no tomorrow. How did he manage not to accidentally die from the sugar rush by crashing somewhere ? Bandit would occasionally look at him, something that lifted this dreadful feeling. He really was oblivious to the way Bandit's body would tense up, not a bad thing this time around.

"He gave you your favorite biscuits, is Fuze flirting with you ?" The idea was killing him for some reason.

"Oh my God, no ! He was regifting it from Tachanka." Jäger seemed shocked at the idea.

"Good, nobody should touch you." He didn't buy it. He was his and he would fight the Uzbek.

"Dominic, you're not my older brother ! Although... That would've been nice. Some things would've been easier, you know ? I like you." The bright smile on his face was a sight to behold, a natural beauty.

Something in Dominic clicked at the words. Brother ? A strong need, keep Marius safe, nothing should ever harm him, he couldn't let him suffer, not again, not like-

The sobs left him without a warning, his heart shattered into a million pieces. There was nothing he could do, losing himself under the weight of his thoughts. Hands planted themselves on his shoulders, going up and down his back as to try and calm him down. Jäger kept repeating himself, 'what's wrong Dom ?', 'what's going on ?', 'Did I hurt you ?', 'Please don't cry...', 'Talk to me Dominic' all in the softest voice possible.

"I would've loved to Marius."

Maybe, just maybe he could wait a little longer.


	2. Try again

Anger is a natural emotion, it's normal to get upset, frustrated, a myriad of feelings building up like steam that you have to let out. Sometimes steam escapes without meaning to, sometimes the pressure is so hard to handle you can't stop yourself from exploding.

Jäger knew that pretty well.

He hadn't meant for everyone to see, hadn't meant to hit himself repeatedly, hadn't meant to push IQ away when she tried to stop him, hadn't meant to sound so harsh when Blitz showed rightful concern as he had just witnessed him strangling himself, hadn't meant to give Bandit a dirty look as he stared with his usual blank face as Jäger was scratching his face, hadn't meant to practically run away.

He simply hadn't meant to.

Weeks of feeling under the weather, a mixture of having to pretend and the fatigue that ensued, anger pooling in his stomach as a result. He couldn't simply bottle himself up, every little quirks that owed him side glances and whispers like he was broken and abnormal. He couldn't stomach the curious looks, the fear or awkwardness, the incomprehension or even the comments, not just on base. Yes he was rocking back and forth quite a lot sometimes, yes he would keep making the same annoying noise some people chewed him out for because they were working (which Mute dubbed "the fish" and that made it better), yes he couldn't handle the noise tonight out of all nights, no he wasn't "a party pooper". He tried keeping them under control.

Truly, he felt different.

So different in fact he couldn't figure out how people worked. What were they really thinking ? What was that expression ? That person was annoyed right ? Not even mentioning how tones meant nothing most of the time, let alone two thirds of what Bandit was saying. Was that sarcasm, a joke ? With the years he managed to try and be his best self, kind, caring, a shoulder to rest on. All a facade. He had no clue how to be those things, most were learned, not innate.

He felt fake.

"You're so self-centered, don't talk to me again."

He started actively telling himself to keep it shut.

"Wow, that's rude, do you kiss your mother with that mouth ?"

He didn't have a mother but she probably wouldn't like it.

"Gosh you're boring, please stop talking."

So he shut down and quietly left after a while.

"You've been talking for ten minutes straight, could you not ?"

He's been a bit too apologetic ever since.

But even then, despite his best efforts, it would happen again, and again, and again, and again. He was tired of it, tired of himself.

The workshop's radio was broken and he had settled on repairing it as a way to change his mind and push out the subsequent fatigue his meltdown brought. Sitting right on the concrete near the fire exit, taking apart the device with ease as he made mental notes of the way every single piece fit together. There was no way he wouldn't be in awe while gutting the insides of different appliances, taking in every single details and making them his own, gently tucked into his brain for later use. It was satisfying, quenched his never-ending curiosity.

But not everything could go right on the first try. He had prodded at the insides for hours, now down quite several attempts. It just wouldn't turn on. Picking it apart, putting it back together, over and over and over and over and over and over-

He couldn't take it anymore, the radio made a satisfying crunch as the plastic made violent contact with the ground, several pieces flying around. Face in his hands, he had to stop the scream of frustration building up at the back of his throat. Why couldn't he do something so simple, something he had done before ? Why couldn't everything be as easy as for everyone else ? What was he missing ? Was he really a heartless monster ? Was that it ?

Shifting next to him broke his train of thought but he had no intention to look up. Someone sat next to him, the smell of cigarette making its way to his nose. Bandit. The only one who didn't ask questions, the only one who would stare but not bring it up, the only one who seemed to just get it and let him be himself, the only one who had the right to interfere when he would harm himself. While he would exceed everyone's threshold, Bandit never showed annoyance and if he did, it wouldn't sound like the others, it would sound encouraging in his unique way.

"You showed that radio who's boss." Bandit's voice sounded deeper in their mother tongue, he liked that.

"It won't work." A hand found its way on his back.

"And ? You can't save everything. What are you, Bob the builder ?" A small laugh left his lips along a cloud of smoke.

"Why can't I get this right Dominic ?"

"You know" Bandit brought Jäger closer to him. "You can't always do everything right, especially if you don't have the right manual. Everything is different, similar yeah, but they mostly work in diverse ways. If you're trying with the wrong instructions, it won't work, Hm ? Let's go get you some cake, the other two made if for you and I've been craving it."

The arm around his shoulders as they walked back gave him a sense of *belonging*. Bandit's words were stuck in his head until the next day, he was talking about the radio, right ? It got repaired in the end as they worked together, taped down in some spots by Bandit sure, but it was working alright.

"It reminds me of you." Bandit said, ruffling his hair.

"I'm proud of you Marius."


End file.
